Legends of Belariath
Stormbringer and Ayla
The Story of Stormbringer and Ayla 3
A Painful Lesson
Looking down at last as ayla knelt between my knees, I decided it would be better to bring things to a head quickly, before we got too far from her father's home. It would be easier to take her back before we got too far away and then I could get on with my life. She seemed almost unaware, lost in some private thoughts as I spoke to her. "Stand up, slave. I wish to inspect my property."
This brought a gasp that though quickly stifled, was still audible and I smiled to myself assuming I had found a weak spot in the girl's armor. Still she got up readily enough, rising gracefully to her feet and standing close in front of me, looking into my face as she waited,
"Lower your eyes, slave," I spoke sharply to ayla and she complied immediately, though a slight flush brushed her cheeks at being so spoken to. "Now remove your clothing." The blush deepened as she crossed one arm over her breasts to hold the garment in place, unfastening the ties at each shoulder. Then with a visible shrug, the young girl dropped both arms to her sides and the brief garment slid off to pool at her feet.
I took my time examining her body, just as I would if she were a real slave. My eyes moved gradually downwards... the slender column of her neck merged into well-defined shoulders and arms that showed enough muscle definition to be attractively feminine. The girl's chest seemed almost too small to carry the full rounded orbs of her breasts, each topped by a prominent, fawn colored nipple. But she did carry them, and well. They sat side by side, jutting towards me as though eager for a touch, a hand to explore them, a palm to hold their weight.... I shook myself mentally and looked lower. Slender waist, gently rounded belly dimpled by a deep navel, the waist flaring out into curved hips that provided a fitting setting for a prominent mound covered lightly with thin fuzzy brown hair... slim thighs, again showing the muscles of one who exercises regularly, still intensely feminine... "Turn around," I ordered, my voice rather rough at this point.
Without a word, ayla turned her back to me. I looked down it's long length to the tautly rounded hemispheres of her bottom, divided my a deep mysterious cleft. "Now bend over and touch your toes."
The girl's body tensed at my words. “You... you can't be serious... you expect me to... "
"So! That is how you obey your master is it, slave?"
"I... I apologize, my Lord. It's just that... well no one has ever.... I mean.... "
"I see you need some training until you become strong enough to be a good slave." I replied.
"Strong enough?" Those words plainly confused the girl but one day she would understand. It took far more mental strength to be a willing slave than to be free.
"Now," I stood up as I spoke. "Bend over and grasp your ankles, slave." This time ayla complied immediately and offered no protest, even when I nudged her feet with my own, showing her that I wanted her legs spread wider. She held the position, visibly trembling as I walked slowly around her, long hair tumbled down onto the grass, eyes closed and face burning bright red. In truth I would have seen her sex clearer if I had remained seated, but my aim was not to arouse myself to unbridled lust by looking at this girl.
I must admit though, being honest with myself, that I was certainly aroused by her young voluptuous body. But it is not my way to lose control of my reactions. A master must be in control at all times or he scarce deserves the title. And even though I still intended to return her to her father with virginity intact, maybe not today but certainly in a couple of days... a week at most... or perhaps two weeks if I felt the need to keep her around for that long..... in any event, no longer than a month...
Well, however long I kept her, it was not my way to act other than I did, to treat the girl as a slave in need of training to make her a suitable servant to my needs. Even though I didn't intend to keep her more than a month or two, the lessons she learned would benefit whatever man should eventually marry her.
As ayla stood there naked, bent double with her hair trailing in the grass and her bottom stuck up into the air, I wandered over to a nearby clump of trees and used my knife to cut a slender branch. Walking slowly back to the trembling and flush-faced girl, I trimmed this branch of surplus leaves and bent it between my hands. It was light and supple, it would do nicely.
The girl yelped almost loudly enough to be heard back at the castle when I flicked the branch so that it landed across her naked bottom, not hard but it would certainly have stung. And probably came as quite a surprise too. I doubt her father had ever had the heart to treat his only daughter this way. But to her credit, after the first reflex move, ayla made no attempt to leave the position I had placed her in.
I stood beside the girl, speaking softly, whipping her bottom slowly and carefully with the switch.
"Always address me as 'my Lord' or 'Master'." Smack! Yelp!
"Never raise your eyes without permission." Smack! Yelp!
"Obey every order quickly.." Smack! Yelp!
"This body of yours belongs to me, to do with as I wish....." Smack! Yelp!
".... so don't question my actions or my right." Smack! Yelp!
"Whatever you do, you do because I allow it...." Smack! Yelp!
"... so unless I have already given permission... ask first." Smack! Yelp!
A Slave Enslaved
The basic lessons for a new slave, repeated slowly and quietly, each accompanied by a flick of the switch and the girl's inadvertent cry of pain. The same messages, phrased differently, again and again until almost an hour had passed. Then I sat back down in my former place and considered the bent over body in front of me.
Never beat a slave in anger. Never beat a slave without explaining why. The taut, creamy-white flesh was criss-crossed with pink lines. But none came close to breaking the skin, none even raised a weal. They would burn for a few hours but fade leaving no mark. And that was how it should be. Training a slave involved making a lasting mental impression on her to accompany the words. Damaging or disfiguring the girl had no place in training.
As ayla held her position, sniffling quietly, I sat looking. Sweat was visible, beading her back from the strain of holding still and running occasionally down to her neck. More droplets glistened on her bottom and I watched one large drop slowly trickle down the cleft until it hung briefly from the plump swell of her sex before falling soundlessly onto the grass. Finally I spoke.
"Have you learned anything today, slave?"
"y.. yes... m..mm..my Lord."
"What have you learned?" With trembling voice ayla repeated back the lessons I had drilled into her, trying to hold back the sniffles, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Good girl. Now go and wash yourself in the stream. You will find the cool water helps, slave," I commented quietly.
"Thank you, Master." Straightening up, not without wincing, ayla made her way to the slow moving stream and squatted in the water close to the bank, no doubt appreciating the sensation of the water which came almost to her waist as she cupped her hands and splashed it over her body.
While she was enjoying the cold water, I watched her quietly with a slight smile. But inside, my thoughts were anything but quiet. I needed to analyze my feelings and be honest with myself. While ayla returned almost unnoticed and silently knelt before me, my mind churned. I had told her father I would return her. But there was something about this girl, something special. She had struck a deep chord inside me and I was reluctant to let her go. Yes, now I was being honest with myself I could see it clearly. Despite every reason I had to not want a personal slave cluttering up my life, I wanted to keep her. Earlier I had passingly thought about her marrying at some time in the future. My reaction to that idea had surprised me. The thought of someone else touching her... taking her.... No. I preferred not to think about that possibility at all.
With a huge mental sigh I focused on the bowed head before me. This had to be sorted out here and now, before I got in too deeply.
"ayla... you have a life in your fathers castle... a position, status, comfort, servants... the chance of a good marriage to a wealthy neighbor... " To my surprise, she began to cry, softly and steadily, body shaking with emotion.
"You don't want me."
There is always a time to ignore the fact that a slave is speaking out of place and this was one such. "You have everything back there. As my slave you have nothing."
"That is what I want... that nothing with you, my Lord."
I shook my head slightly. This was getting silly. Being honest with myself I knew I wanted her as my slave. For reasons I couldn't fathom, she wanted that too. Still I tried one more time.
"Ayla. You have a choice now. Once only. I release you from your vow. Get up and go back to your father. Or stay here and be my slave forever." She didn't move, kneeling in place, shoulders still quivering with emotion but a small smile touching the corners of her mouth as she realized that being kept was one of the options.
"Very well." I stood up, secretly elated at the choice she had made. From my saddle bag I took an item and returned to sit back down again. "You may look up now, alya." Her eyes raised to look into mine, glowing softly with an emotion I scarcely understood. I showed her the item I had fetched. It was a rough piece of leather, a strap from my horse's furnishings, with a buckle at one end.
"A rough collar for a slave who needs polishing. When you are better trained you will earn a better collar. Now this is your last chance to leave." I waited two long minutes but the girl showed no signs of moving, so I reached forward and looped the piece of harness around her neck, fastening the buckle so that it fitted close but comfortably. "Now you are my slave, to do with as I will, for the rest of your life."
"Yes, my Lord," ayla replied brightly with another of those smiles.
"Now stand up and bend over my knees, slave."